


Fever (All Through the Night)

by Fancy Lads Snacks (Filthy_Bunny)



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Fuck Or Die, M/M, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Possible Medical Kink, Prostitution, basically just sex pollen PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 21:26:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4278504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filthy_Bunny/pseuds/Fancy%20Lads%20Snacks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Courier takes some chems with unexpectedly distracting side effects. Arcade gets roped into finding a remedy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever (All Through the Night)

Rosy evening light flooded into the tent. Arcade looked up from his microscope to see Julie standing in the opening.

“Someone here insisting on seeing you,” she said. “Says it’s an emergency.”

She stepped aside and a young man entered, barely more than a boy.

“Doctor Gannon?” he said, breathless from running. Arcade nodded, frowning. “The lady sent me. Um, I don’t know her name, the one with the big old Powerfist. Said you need to come quick. Said it’s Jake, he’s real sick.”

Arcade was on his feet before the kid even finished his sentence. “Where?”

“The Wrangler,” the kid said. “She said you’d need a… a… um…”

“A what?” Arcade snapped. He was already reaching for his doctor’s bag.

“A… sellative?”

“Sedative?”

“Uh. Yeah, something like that.”

Arcade made a quick scan of the contents of his bag, making sure he had Med-X, stims, plenty of antivenom (Jake was _forever_ getting poisoned), dressings, and, yes, tranquilizers in both oral and injectable form. He snatched up the bag and followed the kid from the tent. Julie eyed him with confusion and mild annoyance as he passed. Arcade was getting used to that look; saw it every time he left the Fort at short notice to go running after the Courier. They could argue about it later.

\--

It was still early evening, but already slot machines were jangling in the bar and half the tables were occupied. The sound of a girl moaning enthusiastically became clearer as Arcade climbed the stairs two at a time. Veronica was waiting right outside Jake’s room, as though on guard. She was all but twitching with anxiety.

“I’m sorry,” she said as he reached the top of the stairs. “I would have come for you myself, but I couldn’t leave him alone in case… I don’t know, in case he hurt her.”

Arcade frowned. “Hurt who?”

Veronica pulled a face that was a kind of apologetic wince. “The hooker,” she said. Before Arcade could ask her what the hell she meant, she’d pushed open the door to Jake’s room.

Arcade looked over her shoulder, then stopped and just stared.

There were people on the bed. Naked people. Naked people having very noisy, furious sex. One of them was Jake. Actually, he wasn’t completely naked; his pants were down around his knees and it looked as though one of his boots was still on, but everything from there on up was bared and bathed in sweat. His skin was blazing red from his efforts. From the doorway Arcade could see his profile, eyes almost closed, his lips parted and teeth bared in a snarl. On her knees underneath him was a dark-haired woman whom Arcade vaguely recognised from the few times he’d visited the bar. She was the one making those moans; Arcade just hadn’t processed the fact that they were coming from this room. The sound seemed almost deafening now the door was open; she panted and moaned and yelled as though it was almost too much. The way Jake was ramming into her like an animal, Arcade was hardly surprised.

He tore his eyes away from the spectacle and Veronica pulled the door closed again. Jake and the girl hadn’t even seemed to notice them.

“What the hell is this?” Arcade demanded. He tried not to focus on why he felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “I thought he was injured?”

Veronica had gone very very pink. Arcade could feel his own face burning too.

“He’s been at it like this for well over an hour,” she replied, voice hushed. “He’s already worn out one girl and this is the second. It’s like he’s possessed. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“It looks as though he’s getting all the medical assistance he needs,” Arcade muttered.

“You don’t understand. He took something,” Veronica said. “Some kind of chem. I don’t know what it was, or where he got it, but we ran into a group of Fiends out near Westside and he popped out this inhaler saying it’d make his reactions faster.”

“And you _let_ him?”

“Oh, sure, we asked the Fiends to wait while we had a debate about the pros and cons of sampling strange drugs, which he won due to his powers of logical reasoning,” Veronica replied, glaring back at him. “You know what he’s like, Arcade, he already had a lungful of that crap before I could so much as ask what the hell he was doing.”

Arcade did indeed know what the Courier was like. Brave. Quick-thinking. Often reckless. Occasionally idiotic. Arcade had lectured him more than once about the dangers of chems, especially for someone with recent fucking brain damage. “Then what?”

“Well, we fought them off, obviously, but after that he started acting… weird. Itching like he had ants in his armour. And then he started giving me this look, like… well, you know the kind of look.” She frowned and gave herself a little shake. “And then he tried to grab me, so. Yeah. I stopped that shit right there.” She raised her fist, the one still clad in her armoured gauntlet.

Arcade stared at her in horror. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine. Whatever he has in his system, I know he’s not himself. But he needed _some_ kind of help.” She gestured at the bedroom door. “This was the best I could come up with at short notice with a horny semi-conscious guy in armour draped over my shoulder.”

“You said there was another girl?”

“Yeah. Poppy. She’s okay, she’s just very, um, sore. And now he’s with Camille, but it’s been a while and he just won’t _stop_. Did you bring something to knock him out?”

Arcade nodded. The girl in the room let out a high-pitched cry, and he and Veronica exchanged a look.

“I think we might need it,” Veronica remarked.

She opened the door and they edged inside. The room stank of sex. The hooker—Camille—seemed to be in pleasure rather than pain. She threw her head back, clawed her fingers in the bed sheets and her whole body tensed as she orgasmed. Jake didn’t slow for a moment. He grabbed her shoulders and thrust harder and faster than ever. The sound of their slick bodies slapping together filled the room.

“ _Oh god oh god oh god—_ ” The woman convulsed and started coming all over again. Veronica shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. Arcade put his bag down on the bookcase near the door and opened the buckle.

“Hey,” said a female voice. The girl on the bed looked over at them from between the strands of sweaty hair hanging in her face. She looked like she was having trouble holding herself up, especially with Jake still driving into her with great force. “A little help here?” she said weakly.

Arcade took out a clean syringe and a glass vial and quickly prepared the injection. He reminded himself that he was a doctor and this was a medical matter first and foremost. The fact that he’d just walked in on a very heterosexual porno starring his close friend and object of his poorly repressed desires had to be pushed to one side. He didn’t have time to feel awkward. That could, and no doubt would, come later. He caught Veronica’s eye and the two of them moved toward the bed, picking their way past the armour and clothing strewn on the rug. Veronica went behind Jake while Arcade stood by his side.

“Jake,” Arcade said.

Jake looked up at him, registering his presence for the first time, and Arcade realised just how sick he was. His pupils were huge, eyes bloodshot and lids heavy. Sweat poured off him. He looked out of his mind. Arcade felt a prickle of fear. He looked like a Fiend.

“You want some too?” His voice came out in a rough growl. Arcade couldn’t tell if it was from aggression or just exertion.

“I’ll… politely decline,” Arcade said. “Do you think you can stop what you’re doing for a moment?”

Jake either didn’t hear or didn’t understand. “C’m’ere,” he grunted.

He kept pounding on Camille, one hand on her back, and with the other he reached out and grabbed a fistful of Arcade’s shirt. He pulled him closer.

“Lemme fuck you,” he said. His hand reached lower and he rubbed his open palm against the front of Arcade’s pants.

Arcade snatched his wrist away. “Stop,” he said. He choked down the surge of conflicting feelings that had suddenly risen up. _He tried this with Veronica, too_ , he reminded himself. _He probably doesn’t even know who we are._ He nodded to Veronica, who grabbed Jake firmly around the shoulders and pulled him back. The prostitute crawled away and collapsed at the edge of the bed. Jake immediately started thrashing to free himself, but Veronica clamped him tightly while Arcade took firm hold of his nearest arm. At least dealing with so many junkies in his time meant he was well practiced. He held the syringe between his teeth for a moment while he swabbed the soft skin of Jake’s elbow with a scrap of cotton, then swiftly jabbed the needle into Jake’s arm and depressed the plunger. Jake let out a howl of pain and fury. Veronica kept her arms around him until he stopped struggling and started to slacken.

“Sshhhhh,” she whispered close to his ear. “It’s okay. We’ve got you.” She lay him down carefully on his side, and pulled one of the crumpled sheets over him in a vain attempt to salvage some of his modesty.

Arcade went to toss the empty syringe into the trash can in the corner. He breathed out heavily. Jake’s sweat was on his hands, the smell of him in his nostrils.

“Are you okay?” he heard Veronica say in motherly tones. She had scooped up Camille’s robe from the floor and wrapped it around her.

“I’m good,” the girl said dreamily as Veronica helped her to her feet. “Just needed a break before I lost the feeling in my legs. He is something _else_.” She sounded worn out but genuinely impressed. She leaned on Veronica, who helped her out of the room.

Arcade went back to the bed and sat down. Jake wasn’t unconscious, just subdued. Arcade laid a palm across his forehead. He was on fire. Jake’s eyes opened a little wider and he tried to reach for Arcade, though whether it was intended as an attack or an advance was unclear. His body was too weighted and sluggish from the sedative. He mumbled something that made no sense.

“What am I supposed to do with you?” Arcade sighed. Jake responded with a feral growl.

Veronica returned soon after. “Well, _this_ has been a new experience,” she said. “First time I ever paid for sex, and it was for someone else. I hope Mr. Happy Hard-On here appreciates it.” She looked down at Jake with a scowl, though no lack of concern. “Now what? Do you think he’ll just sleep it off?”

Arcade shook his head. “He’s burning up. I need to get him rehydrated and bring down this fever.”

“Okay. What do you need?”

“Plenty of cold water,” he said. “Some to drink, some to wash him.” He flinched as Jake’s hand reached for his thigh, and he prised it away. _Some for me to take a cold shower in_.

Veronica nodded and left the room. Arcade arranged some pillows and helped Jake to move so he was propped up. He moved to the foot of the bed and tugged off Jake’s remaining boot and his pants, careful to ensure that the sheet stayed covering his body. His clothing and large patches of the sheets were soaked through with sweat. Vigorous sex would make a man perspire, sure, but this was something else. Despite the heat radiating off him, Arcade noticed Jake shiver.

Veronica came back a few minutes later carrying a tin pail of water. She had a couple of towels draped over one arm, and four bottles of purified water tucked under the other. She put everything down on the nightstand.

“Thanks,” Arcade said. “That’s perfect.”

“Need any help?” she asked hesitantly.

Arcade glanced at Jake, who was still wild-eyed but currently too pliant to put up an effective fight. He was also still plainly aroused under the thin sheet. Arcade decided Veronica had probably seen enough of his junk to last her a lifetime.

“I can manage,” he said. “And I think you’ve earned a drink.”

Veronica looked relieved. She patted Arcade on the shoulder. “Good luck. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Once she left, Arcade opened a bottle of water and held it to Jake’s lips.

“Come on,” he said. “I need you to drink.”

Jake gratefully downed the full bottle with Arcade’s help. Arcade opened another, and Jake drank half of it in one long gulp. Arcade soaked one of the towels in the bucket and wrung it out. He mopped Jake’s face first, gently dabbing around his eyes and forehead before moving down to his neck and collarbone. It was hard to tell if he was bringing his patient any noticeable relief. Jake shifted and furrowed his brow, but didn’t try to push him away. Arcade had never seen him so out of it before, even when wounded or falling-down drunk. He’d never seen him as raw and testosterone-fuelled as he’d been up until a few minutes earlier, either. The stark extremes made something twist painfully in Arcade’s ribcage. He did his best to ignore it and keep going, wiping away sticky sweat and dipping the towel to cool Jake’s skin. Jake shivered again when Arcade reached his chest. Arcade noticed the goosebumps that formed across Jake’s shoulders, the damp curls of hair, the way his nipples tightened into hard points and his breathing deepened. Noticed it all, despite trying his hardest not to look.

As Arcade ministered to him, Jake revived enough to get handsy again. He was still too weak to do more than paw vaguely at Arcade’s chest and jaw and arms, though, and after a while it became more effort than it was worth to keep tugging his hands away so Arcade just let them wander, provided they didn’t head anywhere too personal. As he was wiping down Jake’s stomach, Jake moved his hips in response. His erection hadn’t abated at all. That was cause for concern. It was also cause for a considerably less professional reaction below Arcade’s belt. He tore his eyes away from the bulge that was barely covered by the sheet. He was disgusted at himself. Just because Jake’s dick was hard and his hands straying, it didn’t make it acceptable for Arcade to ogle someone who was burning alive with fever. The hyperarousal was a symptom, not an invitation.

He moved down the bed and started to wash Jake’s legs instead. That made things easier until he got to the top of his thighs and was confronted with the problem of his groin all over again. He couldn’t touch him there, not with Jake in this state. Not with Arcade himself in this state. And yet it didn’t seem right to leave him sticky with sweat and the juices of the women he’d fucked. Plus the cold water may help take the edge off his arousal.

_I’m a doctor. I’m a doctor. I’m a doctor._

He dipped the cloth again and pulled the sheet away. He could feel Jake’s eyes burning into him, but he refused to look at his face. He stroked the cloth gently along Jake’s still-hard cock, careful not to allow their skin to touch. Jake moaned and bucked his hips into the contact. He reached for Arcade’s hand, but Arcade eased away from him. Jake made a sound of protest, and the moment Arcade was done he started to jerk himself instead, fingers wrapped around his shaft. His grip was too tight and his movements too clumsy on skin already raw from sex. Whatever drug had fried his brain had stripped him of any restraint. At this rate he’d keep going till he bled.

“Stop it,” Arcade urged gently. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“It already hurts,” Jake groaned. His voice was slurred. “God, it hurts so bad, I need to come.”

“Turn over,” Arcade told him. “Let me do your back.”

Jake ignored him, resisted Arcade’s efforts to move him. His breathing hitched faster.

“For the love of—” Arcade wrapped his hand around Jake’s to still it. He doused the cloth again and dabbed at Jake’s face. The last thing he needed was him working himself up into hyperventilation. “ _Slow down_ ,” he insisted.

With his hand trapped by Arcade’s, Jake started to rock his hips into their combined fists instead. Arcade wasn’t touching his cock directly, but this still felt far too close for comfort. He tried again to tug Jake’s hand away. Jake whined.

“Please, help me come,” he begged. “This is _killing_ me.”

“I can’t,” Arcade said. “Do you even know who I am, Jake?”

Jake looked at him through eyelashes spiked with moisture. “Arcade,” he said. He reached up with his free hand and clutched the lapels of Arcade’s coat, tried to pull him down. “Help me. Make me come, Arcade.”

Arcade freed himself from Jake’s grip and stood up, turning away so Jake wouldn’t see the effect he was having on his anatomy. He glanced at his doctor’s bag and wondered if he could risk tranquilising him again. He didn’t want to, not when Jake’s system was already flooded with unknown chems. Leaving him in his current state was no better. The flush of hormones brought on by orgasm might genuinely help him, but if prolonged intercourse with two different women had brought him no relief, masturbating wasn’t going to get him any closer.

Unless—Well, maybe there _was_ another solution after all. A different kind of stimulation could give him release. The only problem was providing that stimulation. None of the options made him feel remotely comfortable.

Jake groaned and turned on his side, still groping himself. “Do something,” he pleaded.

“It’s okay,” Arcade said. He leaned down and smoothed the hair back from Jake’s forehead. “I’ll go get someone to help you.”

\--

“What do you mean, he quit?”

Arcade stood facing Francine Garrett across the bar. She stared back unapologetically. “I mean, he _quit_. Few days ago. Ran off with some NCR boy. Hadn’t even finished paying back his debts yet.”

“And Santiago was your only male... companion?”

“Yep.”

Arcade gritted his teeth. “What about the robot.”

Francine shook her head. “Now _there’s_ another wasted investment. Damn thing’s on the fritz again. James has been working on it upstairs for the last week.”

“Right.” Arcade closed his eyes. This couldn’t be happening. The next best option would be to get Jake to the Strip, but Arcade had serious doubts about the likelihood of getting him dressed and on his feet, never mind all the way to a major casino and past security in his intoxicated and feverish state.

“Our Ellie looks enough like a boy from behind,” Francine began, but Arcade raised a hand to stop that thought.

“No. Thanks. It’s not for me,” he told her. He leaned on the bar, drumming his fingers on the surface. “It’s—Look, as ridiculous as this sounds, it’s a medical emergency.”

“Uh huh.” Francine looked unmoved. “Ain’t it always.”

\--

Arcade eyed his reflection in the bathroom mirror, blurry without his glasses, and gave himself a silent pep talk. He could feel proud, he told himself, of the heroic job he’d done of so far resisting Jake’s advances. Especially since that man was basically all of Arcade’s wet dream fantasies rolled into one, and that was _before_ he was writhing naked under him and begging to be touched. If Arcade could withstand pressure like that, he could surely find a way to get through this with a minimum of damage to both of them.

Even so, he felt guilty. Guilty for looking, guilty for getting hard, and guilty that he was about to go into a stall and jerk off so he didn’t come in his pants the next time Jake rubbed against him.

“Really goddamn heroic,” he said, and doused his face in cold water.

\--

Having dealt with his erection in record time—even if he hadn’t been in a rush, he wouldn’t have lasted three minutes with those images of Jake fresh in his mind—Arcade went back to the room. Veronica had spotted him on his way to the stairs, but he’d given her a kind of vague ‘Everything’s fine’ gesture, and she’d stayed at her table. Better to lie than have to explain what he was about to do.

He unlocked the door and went inside. He’d felt rather ashamed of locking Jake in, but it seemed safer for everyone in the building. He took off his white coat and draped it over a chair. It was far too warm in here.

Jake was on his back, totally exposed, still desperately trying to beat himself off. Arcade blushed to think he’d been doing the same a minute earlier, though thankfully to greater effect.

As Arcade approached the bed, Jake growled in frustration. “Why can’t I come?”

Arcade sat down. “Because you’re an idiot who chose to rely on chems instead of skill,” he said.

“Chems?” Jake mumbled.

Arcade felt his forehead. It was still too hot. He opened a fresh bottle of water and held it to Jake’s lips. “Drink,” he said.

Jake took only a few sips before moving his head away. Water sloshed onto his neck. “Arcade, please, I feel like I’m gonna die.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“Need it,” Jake protested. He clung to Arcade’s shoulders, either trying to pull himself up or Arcade down.

“Shhh,” Arcade whispered, easing Jake back down onto the mattress. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I’ll take care of you.”

He put the water aside. There was a tube of lubricant on the bed that one of the hookers had left. Cherry flavoured. Classy. Arcade picked it up. Tried and failed to convince himself that this was no different to any other medical procedure.

“Listen to me,” he said. Jake’s eyes met his. The pupils were still blown. “I’m going to help you get some relief, but… it may feel a little weird if you haven’t done it before. Do you want me to try?”

“Yes,” Jake snarled.

“If you want me to stop at any time, you need to tell me.”

“Fucking _do it_.”

It wasn’t a perfect example of informed consent, but it was the best Arcade was going to get. He uncapped the tube and squeezed some onto his fingers. He nudged one of Jake’s knees, and his thighs parted without resistance. Jake watched him, waiting. Arcade couldn’t cope with having that gaze on him.

“Close your eyes,” he said. Thankfully, Jake complied. He let his head fall to one side on the pillow.

Arcade reached between Jake’s legs and brushed his fingertips against his ass. Jake’s shudder shook the bed and went straight through Arcade, too.

Arcade didn’t know where to look. In the end he just closed his eyes too. He felt around the puckered entrance of Jake’s ass, letting him get used to the contact before pressing a little harder. Jake’s gasps and the motions of his hips offered nothing but encouragement. He eased one fingertip into the hot ring of muscle. Jake was tight, and he tensed reflexively at first, but didn’t fight the intrusion. His muscles were relaxed thanks to the lingering effects of the sedative.

Arcade moved his finger in tiny circles and pushed a little deeper. Once Jake started to rock back into the pressure, he inched the second finger inside. Jake moaned. Arcade opened his eyes despite himself, and saw that Jake had reached for his abused cock yet again.

“If you’re going to insist on doing that, will you at least use _this_?” Arcade dropped the tube of lubricant onto Jake’s belly. He ignored it, so Arcade used his free hand to inexpertly squeeze some lube out onto Jake’s dick, smearing his fist with it as he did so.

Once Arcade’s fingers were sheathed inside Jake to the second knuckle, he curled them a little, exploring. He found Jake’s prostate and gently pressed against it. Jake went wild, spine arching and hips spasming. His eyes squeezed tighter shut and he tilted his head back into the pillows. Arcade wanted to lean down and lick at his exposed throat. Instead he looked at the wall and started to massage Jake’s prostate with his fingertips. At the same time he pressed the pad of his thumb against his perineum to increase the stimulation.

Jake’s eyes snapped open. “Oh, fuck, what _is_ that,” he gasped, snatching at breath.

Arcade kept going, building the pressure slowly and steadily with sure fingers. He listened to Jake’s voice growing rougher by the minute, felt the tremble in his thighs. He was getting close, at long last. Arcade wanted to open him up more, push another finger inside, stretch him, play with him, but he fought the urge. This wasn’t about what he wanted to do. If it was, he’d have more than his fingers inside him.

A minute longer and Jake’s voice rose to a wordless shout while his body snapped into a long, taut line. His hips thrust off the mattress as he started to come. Arcade tried to tear his eyes away but he couldn’t do it, the sight was too hypnotic as Jake came and came, ropes of thick semen spurting from his fist and decorating his chest and belly. He went on and on. Arcade stroked him through it from inside. He had to clench his free hand into a fist on the sheets to keep from reaching out to help drag out every last drop from Jake’s beautiful cock. The blood in his own dick was a heavy drumbeat behind his fly. Eventually Jake’s hips stilled and he settled back into a seemingly contented heap on the bed. His head lolled to one side. Arcade withdrew his hand gently and leaned forward, reaching for the towel.

“What did you do,” Jake muttered, voice muffled by the pillow. His broad chest rose and fell, slick with sweat again.

Arcade allowed himself a tiny smile. “Does it matter?”

“No,” Jake replied. “God no.”

He shivered as the wet cloth came into contact with his stomach. He opened his eyes, and Arcade felt him watching as he cleaned the sticky mess from his torso. He mumbled something incoherent.

“What?”

“Some water,” Jake said.

Arcade reached for another bottle and opened it. Jake managed to push himself up until he was sitting. He drank deeply, watching Arcade the whole time. He emptied the bottle and lowered it, but kept on staring. The heat of his gaze made Arcade itch.

“What is it?” he said. “How do you feel?”

Jake didn’t answer, just moved forward onto his knees and swung an arm around Arcade’s neck. Before Arcade knew what was happening, Jake’s mouth was pressed to his, more biting him than kissing. The tip of his tongue was cool from the water, but his lips were as hot as the rest of him. Arcade’s heart stopped. Jake made a noise of pure need against him, fingers tugging painfully at his hair. His other hand fumbled for Arcade’s dick.

“Do it again,” his voice rumbled against Arcade’s jaw.

He was straddling Arcade’s lap now, hands everywhere. Arcade felt something hard press against his stomach. He looked down in disbelief. Despite the mess Jake had just made of himself, he was still hard as a rock.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Arcade muttered.

“More,” Jake panted. “I need more.”

It was too much. Arcade couldn’t fight it, not all of this at once. Not the mouth on his, the fingers clawing at his shirt buttons, the hard fucking dick rubbing on his shirt and the gruff, wanton noises Jake was making. His patient’s strength was returning while his own resolve was being sapped more by the second. With a growl he wrapped his arms around Jake and tipped him back onto the bed. He followed him down and ground his erection against the jucture of Jake’s thighs, eliciting another long moan.

“You want more? I’ll give you more.”

He tore himself away long enough to rip off his shirt. His glasses came off too and landed with a clatter onto the nightstand.

“Do you realise what I’m about to do to you?”

“Yes,” Jake hissed.

Arcade unbuckled his belt with trembling hands. Jake had his fly open before Arcade could even get to it, and shoved his pants down roughly. Arcade’s breath caught as hot fingers wrapped around his cock. He felt around in the tangled sheets for the lube, and pulled Jake’s hand away to slather it liberally onto his erection. They watched each other for a moment. Jake’s eyes roved, taking in Arcade’s nakedness for the first time. His breath was shallow, lips parted.

“There’s no going back,” Arcade warned. “Not once we do this.” He didn’t know if he was saying it for Jake’s sake or his own.

“Just _fuck me_.”

Arcade nodded once. “Spread your legs.”

Jake complied, thighs falling open, even tilted his hips up in his eagerness. Arcade slid his wet fingers back into Jake’s hole, three of them this time, thrust them all the way inside and just barely teased against his prostate as he withdrew. He rubbed the head of his cock against Jake’s ass and started to push in. Jake tensed, stopped breathing.

“Is it too much?”

“Yes,” Jake gasped. “No.”

“I can stop—”

“ _No_.”

He ground down onto Arcade, forcing him another inch deeper. They groaned in unison. Arcade rocked his hips slowly, just small movements, sinking a little further into Jake with each forward motion.

“More. I want all of it.”

Arcade gave it to him. Buried himself to the hilt. The feel of Jake’s heat stretched so tight around him made him dizzy, lit him on fire. He started thrusting into him, careful at first, but the more Jake moaned and spread his legs wider and dragged his hands over Arcade’s body, the more his control frayed and he drove harder and deeper.

He half-fell on top of Jake, kissed his mouth, lapped at his throat. Weight propped on one arm, he reached between them and took hold of Jake’s cock. It was a burning weight against his palm. He ran his thumb around the head where it was still slick with come, teasing over the slit and around the glans. He rolled his hips at the same time, playing with the angle he was fucking Jake at. Jake’s voice in his ear grew increasingly franctic, cursing and begging and sobbing that it was _so good, so fucking good_ , and the stream of words coupled with the tight squeeze around Arcade’s dick was too much. His balls tightened and he felt that familiar hot shiver starting to build in his spine. He slowed almost to a stop and kissed Jake long and hard, silencing him. He gripped the base of his cock tightly and pulled out.

“No,” Jake whined. “Don’t stop.”

“If I don’t, I won’t last long enough to get you off,” Arcade said.

Jake just swore at him.

Arcade sat back on his heels, still clutching his dick. “Trust me, I’m not done yet.”

He reached for the last bottle of water. He took a long cold swig, swilling it around to cool his tongue before swallowing. Then he bowed his head and took Jake’s cock deep into his mouth. He tasted like come and artificial cherry. Salty and sweet at the same time. He sucked him down deeper, relishing the mindless noises Jake was making up above. Fingers snagged in his hair. He had to press down hard on Jake’s thighs to keep him from fucking his face. The restraint had Jake all but sobbing as Arcade bathed his cock with his tongue.

He pulled off with a long suck and sat back to take another drink, ignoring Jake’s complaints. Once his tongue was nice and cool again, he pressed Jake’s thighs up, parting them and exposing him in the hottest possible way. Jake stared back, demanding and unashamed. Arcade dropped down and laved his tongue all the way from Jake’s asshole to his balls.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” Jake whimpered, and Arcade repeated the motion, slower this time.

He kept going until Jake’s thighs were quivering under his hands and the noises he was making were no longer recognisable as words, then he moved over him again and slid his cock back inside **.**

Arcade pushed Jake’s thighs up and back, tilting his pelvis up, and tried out a few angled strokes before a rough cry from Jake told him he’d found what he was aiming for. He held him in place and fucked him at a good steady pace, watching as Jake lost himself even more to the pleasure of Arcade’s cock rubbing at his sweet spot. He started to jerk himself again and Arcade drove into him mercilessly, knowing he was close. He kept going even as Jake’s orgasm rocked through the both of them, only a thin trickle of come seeping from his dick this time after his explosive reaction earlier. Jake’s body tightening and writhing around him had Arcade right on the brink now too, and he pounded on towards his own release. He felt that delicious lick of flame spread down his spine, up the backs of his thighs and through his balls, tipping him over the edge, sending him slamming and spilling into Jake’s body…

Jake’s legs wrapped around him and pulled him in as tight as he could go, and Arcade watched in delirious wonder as a third wave of orgasm seemed to crash through Jake. His voice was a ruin now, too hoarse to even cry out, and his exhausted limbs trembled as they coiled around Arcade. The last tremors went through Arcade and he sagged bonelessly against Jake until he had enough power to move again.

Both their bodies were shining wet with sweat when they parted. Jake’s last release had been completely dry, though clearly no less intense. When he turned towards Arcade, tears were leaking from his eyes. He read the alarm on Arcade’s face, and pulled him down to kiss him hard in reassurance.

“That was—Fuck, I don’t even know what that was,” he panted.

Arcade stroked his face. “Are you okay?”

Jake nodded. Despite how wrecked he was and the flush on his skin from all that sex, he looked more himself than earlier. Arcade dropped his head in relief.

“ _Please_ tell me you’re done now,” he mumbled into Jake’s chest.

A breathy laugh came in reply. “I think so.”

\--

There were clean bed linens in the dresser. Arcade stripped the filthy sheets from the bed and threw clean ones over it, not bothering to tuck anything in. Jake fell gladly onto the cool cotton and slept. For twelve hours, he slept.

Arcade slept for a few hours too. After that he washed and dressed and kept a close eye on Jake. By the time the courier woke up, his temperature was mercifully back to normal. Arcade made him drink about a gallon of water anyway, to make sure he was fully hydrated and free of any lingering toxins.

He didn’t mention anything that had happened between them. Jake was groggy from sleep and the hangover from whatever shit he’d taken, and Arcade didn’t know how much of it he remembered. He had no idea how to raise the subject. So he didn’t.

“So, is there anyone I need to apologise to?” Jake asked him over the bowl of noodles Arcade had rustled up as breakfast. “Some of it’s still hazy.”

“Talk to Veronica,” Arcade replied. “I believe you got a little inappropriate.”

Jake nodded and looked suitably ashamed of himself. He twisted his fork in the noodles and ate in silence for a minute.

“I would apologise for getting a little inappropriate with _you_ ,” he said. He looked up at Arcade and smiled. At least now he had the decency to blush. “But truth is, I’m not sorry about that at all.”


End file.
